


he's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll

by courfeyradical



Category: Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 15:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courfeyradical/pseuds/courfeyradical
Summary: Twenty more minutes and we would’ve been fine. Twenty more minutes and we would’ve been long gone. Always better to be lucky than good, and tonight it looks like I’m neither.(Neo-Noir au, sidesteps flirt and do crimes together, fuck cops and fuck hollow ground)





	he's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll

** _Los Diablos. A rainy Friday in November. 2020._ **

I’ve got no good reason to be here. That’s not to say I don’t have any reason at all to be here, just none that are  _ good.  _ No, tonight I’m here on strictly business. A job, and a big one. One that should set us up nicely for a while, give me the space to lay low while I live big.

Well. Maybe it’s not all  _ strictly _ business. I’ve been to this bar every Friday night for over a month, making myself look like a regular. Sat at quiet spot at the bar for a few hours each week, sipping whiskey sours and taking note of security rotations. Chatted up bartenders, played cards in the back. I got real friendly, but never too personal. It’s an extensive casing of a joint, granted, but the payoff’s worth it. That, and the view. 

-

** _5 weeks earlier_ **

This isn’t the first casing I’ve done. Though espionage isn’t exactly one of my specialties, I’ve got the eye for details we need here. If only I could stay focused on the task at hand, and not the details of the bartender with the soft eyes. He’d caught my attention the second I’d walked in. Of course he did. How could he not, with an indecipherable set to his lips and warm glint to his eyes?

I can’t help but wonder what he would look like smiling at me. Laughing at a well timed joke. Moaning. I have to shake that thought from my head before it takes root, like a kid worried that his face will get stuck in the expression he’s making. Getting distracted before I find what I came here for would be a rookie mistake.

Maybe I lingered on the idea too long, or maybe it was just too vivid. Maybe I just can’t help myself around tall, dark, handsome men. I should’ve been paying better attention to who was at the table with me. Multitasking is supposed to be something I’m good at. This was a challenge I just wasn’t up to, feeling those grey eyes on my back the whole time I was playing poker. 

Or maybe it was that I couldn’t read him. Not a single stray thought or feeling off him. Shields that strong meant he was one of two things; epileptic, or someone else with some kind of telepathic gift.

I guess it doesn’t matter the reason, I ended up at the bar either way. If I had to make a guess, I’d say that’s where the job went wrong. Curiosity always kills the cat. Worse things could’ve happened, though. I could’ve missed the chance to learn his name.

“Jasper,” he tells me when I ask, and I can tell he’s not lying. No, that habitual downturn to his lips shifts. It’s not quite a smile, but close enough to leave me wanting me more. 

“ _ Jasper _ ,” I say back. Let his name roll off my tongue as my eyes slide down him. Maybe that’s a little too forward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Like the stone. Pretty. It’s fitting.”

He doesn’t blush like I want him to, but that’s not a surprise. I don’t need him to react to smell the blood in the water between us. “Though, I bet with a face like yours, you get told how pretty you are on a nightly basis.”

That gets me a small, polite laugh. The laugh of someone who’s hoping you’re at least going to tip them well. That’s fair.

“It happens. Every now and then, sure.” No smile, yet, he still just looks  _ amused _ . And suspicious. That’s also fair, in an establishment brimming with the wrong kind of folks.

“So modest,” I wink at him, and take a sip of my drink. It’s strong. “What’s a civilized kid like you doing in a den of thieves like this?”

“Making a living.” That felt pointed. 

“That makes two of us,” I let an easy smile slip across my mouth, hoping my eyes don’t give away too much of the heat starting to itch at the back of my thoughts. It’s distracting, so distracting. I’m supposed to be casing the damn joint, not pining over eyes like fog rolling into the bay in the early morning.

I can feel eyes on my back again, and a glance over my shoulder confirms they’re not the kind I want. A tall man, one I’d been playing poker with earlier. He’d been watching me like a hawk then, too; for different reasons than I thought, it seems.

“Someone caught your eye?” Jasper asks me, noticing my distraction.

“No one more than you,” I shoot back, turning back to face him fully despite the burning holes in the back of my head. It’s not a lie, and it’s what finally gets me a smile. Seems like I might have caught him off guard with that one.

“I think I’ve caught someone else’s eye, though. And not in the fun way.” I don’t know what compels me to tell him this. Sure, a handsome face always puts me at ease but this is a different kind of comfort. Feels dangerous. 

With a resigned sigh, I pull out enough cash to cover my bill with a generous tip. It’s a little early to call it a night, but better safe than sorry this time around. I’ve got nothing good to report back yet, nothing worth blowing my cover for.

“Don’t be a stranger, kid.”

-

** _3 weeks earlier_ **

There’s a whiskey sour waiting on the bar for me when I sit down. I try not to put too much stock into the warm feeling of familiarity seeping into my gut, have to remind myself I barely know this man.

“Evening, Micah.”

“Evenin’, doll. Thanks,” I tip my drink at him in acknowledgement before taking a sip. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him my real name. It’s too late to worry about it now.

Scanning the rest of the floor from my perch at the bar, it’s not hard to tell that something isn’t quite right tonight. Friday nights here are usually packed, the perfect environment for me to just slip into the crowd and blend. It looks like a weeknight. There’s people, The Gold Cat is never completely dead, but they’re scattered and mostly keeping to themselves. There’s not a single kingpin’s man to be spotted, and so nothing much for me to do tonight.

“Is somethin’ going on tonight, Jas? This place feels like a ghost town,” I finally ask him when my cup is empty. If I can’t get much work done, I may as well have a little fun with my night.

“Nope. Nothing that I’ve heard about.” From his tone, I suspect it’s safe to assume he hears about most things that happen relating to this bar.

“So that means you’d be free after you finish your shift then? Have time for some dinner and dancing?”

He takes a second to respond; I caught him off guard. But he doesn’t look surprised, so he must have seen this coming. I doubt he knew how impatient I’d be, though.

“I’ve still got another two hours,” he eventually settles on saying.

“That wasn’t a no. I’ve got time.”

His eyes slowly rake over me, appraising, judging. Deciding if I’m worth this time probably. Trying not to fidget under the inspection, I give him a cheesy smile. He laughs at that, and I think I can see a light pink flush rising in his cheeks. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

“Alright. Fine,” he says, nodding.

The grin on my face goes from put-on to genuine and beaming. I’m trying not to look excited, I’m not some kid in a candy shop. It has been too long since I’ve properly taken someone out, though, and I’d be lying if the prospect of spending real time with Jasper wasn’t making my blood quicken. Christ. I wonder if he’ll let me take him home. Maybe not  _ home _ . To somewhere more private, anyway.

-

** _2 weeks earlier_ **

“So, of all the gin joints and dives in the city, how’d you end up at this one?” 

It was something I wanted to ask him for a few weeks now, but had never found a convenient way to bring it up. I should’ve asked before we had dinner. Before I brought him home that night, exposed more than one weakness. If he was here because he was actually working for the kingpin, like a good number of servers at The Cat, I may have just gotten in bed with the enemy.

His nonchalant shrug in response helps to relieve my tension, but the suspicion stays firmly rooted. 

“They paid the best here. Flexible hours and good security don’t hurt.”

I spend too long searching his words for any hidden meaning. Any signs of danger. A lie, or a half-truth. He notices.

“I didn’t know who owned the place until I bought it.” He gets straight to the point with it. I haven’t said anything about it, but working here he has to know the kingpin has enemies. He continues more quietly, leaning forward so I’m the only one close enough to hear him. “I’m not going to tell anyone what you’re doing here. Not tryna’ get you killed after just one date.”

Never able to focus on business, I follow down that rabbit hole. “‘Just one date’? Sounds like you’re expecting a second.”

“Maybe I am. Depends.”

“On what?”

“If you’re busy after this. If you’d like to be.”

“I certainly would like to be.”

Jasper glances over at the clock and then back to me. He hasn’t stepped back and we’re still entirely too close, voices intimately quiet.

“Well. We can leave whenever you’re done. I’m finished as of three minutes ago. Maybe we skip the wining and dining tonight?”

My eyebrows stretch towards my hairline, surprise written clearly on my face and smugness slowly revealed on his. I feel outplayed; he’s got a better poker face by far.

“Uh, yeah. Yes. Definitely, absolutely. I’m, I’m done.” I’m tripping over my words, struggling to catch up now that Jasper’s taken the lead. I’ve only got a short moment to collect myself as he instructs me to wait for him there at the bar.

That’s all the time it takes for someone to slide into the seat next to me. It’s a tall, dark haired man I’d played poker with a few weeks prior. He’s got a sharp look to him tonight, the air between us already rife with tension.

“You’re a new face around here,” his tone is conversation, his expression is not. 

“Relatively,” I shrug, making sure to give nothing hostile back. Playing dumb rarely fails for me. “Y’all don’t get a lot of fresh blood in here?”

“As much as any place. You just happen to be my type.” The wink he gives me is dead eyed, a threat. He’s just going through the motions of flirting, diverting the eye of any onlookers from the threat he’s making out in the open. It’s like a well planned magic trick, premeditated.

“I’m just passing through.” 

I can see Jasper round a corner, now changed out of his work clothes into something more casual. I’m trying to diffuse, but that’s never something I’ve been good at. Escalation is more my speed. He’s eyeing the situation carefully as he approaches, with a look on his face like he’s got a plan. I don’t like hedging my bets on an unknown element, but in my experience two heads are always better than one.

“Ready to go, babe?” I try and keep my jaw from dropping at the term of endearment. The fondness is likely put on for the man next to me, and judging by the look of barely restrained surprise on his face it’s effective. Not that I’m doing a much better job hiding my own shock. 

“Yeah. Let’s ankle.” I slide out of my seat at the bar and comfortably into place next to Jasper, wrapping an arm around his waist for good measure. If he’s made the decision that he’s going to be my cover, then I’m going to run with it.

Despite my arm around him, he’s still leading, guiding me towards a door I’ve never been through. It takes us out to a back alley, and my mental map of the building gets a little more complete.

-

** _Present day._ **

I’m halfway through my second drink of the night when the shouting starts.

The commotion actually starts when a set of cops in full gear kick down the doors, but I’m distracted enough asking Jasper inane questions that a dramatic entrance doesn’t catch my attention. In a bar full of criminals it’s on sight with the pigs, so of course a fight breaks out instantly. The sirens outside are on in a matter of minutes.

It only takes a quick shared glance between myself and Jasper, a jerk of my head in the vague direction of a back exit, and we’re moving. It’s easy for the two of us to fall into a wordless partnership, feels natural as breathing. This is where I’m most comfortable anyway, in a crisis, in a crowd, with someone to back me up. Even if the situation isn’t ideal.

Twenty more minutes and we would’ve been fine. Twenty more minutes and we would’ve been long gone. Always better to be lucky than good, and tonight it looks like I’m neither.

We get about thirty seconds of respite after we make it out the back door before a figure in the shadows clears their throat. I should have seen him as soon as we’d walked out the door, it’s a silhouette I would recognize with my eyes closed.

“Micah Raziel. Word on the street is you’ve been telling a lot of tales for a dead man.”

“You don’t sound surprised. If you’re not here to confront me about that, you’re here for something else.

“This city’s gone to hell in a handbasket,” Investigator, formerly Detective, Steel says, stepping into the light. The years of injustice weighing on his shoulders are clear in his words, but clearer in his tired eyes, the grey starting to creep into his hair. He looks different, I’d expected that, but now how much older he looks. I can’t imagine what he sees when he looks at me, now. Seven years is a long time. 

“Los Diablos has nothing left to lose, and everything to hide. That raid going on in there is just a show, something to keep the public from being suspicious about Hollow Ground having bought out the entire damned police force by now.”

Wei Chen’s always had a suspicious streak a mile wide. It’s what made him a fantastic detective. It’s also what got him kicked out the force after Commissioner Hood’s untimely death. He took the best detective in the force with him when he left, and it wasn’t long before two rookies, fed up with the system, followed them. He didn’t bring any of them with him tonight, to my surprise.

I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed that Ortega isn’t here. It’s hard to guess whether Chen has told him yet that I’m not as dead as the papers made me out to be. Probably not, or he would have found me by now. Ricardo always found his target. Always got his man.

“And I’m guessing you want to do something about that? You never could just let it go, Steel.” 

“We’re already doing something about it. We need help now. You and I both know Hollow Ground’s been using his paid off cops to take down his rivals, your lot must be coming up on his hit list.”

It’s true. It’s why we were trying this job, try and hit him before he hit us. I dare a glance back to Jasper, guilt creeping into my conscience. He doesn’t look bothered, much less surprised, but that’s par for the course. I’m going to owe him some explanations after this.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” I say back slowly. “What kind of help?”

“Your kind of help,” crime, “To cover the bases we can’t.” His jaw is tense, I doubt this was an easy decision to come to. He’s been aware of the fact that I’m not dead long enough to track what I’m doing, there must have been a reason he didn’t follow up on it until now. Maybe he knew the danger he’d risk putting himself, and his colleagues, in. 

“I haven’t told anyone about you yet, or that I’m here.” I slowly raise my eyebrows at that, the shock growing as he steps out of the shadows and extends a metallic hand out towards me. As far as I remember, that hand was still fleshy last time I saw him. That was years ago, and time slows for no man. The lines of it are etched into both of our faces.

There’s a business card held between those fingers, startlingly bare of information except for an address and a phone number.

“Ortega will be there. A week from now, 7 pm sharp.” Chen says as I stare down at it. He says it like it should entice me to show up, not make me question stopping to have this conversation in the first place even more.

“It’s your choice. That’s all we can do for this city. Choose.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from he's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll by betty hutton. if you liked it and want more, come hit me up @arealcrow on tumblr!
> 
> ortega was supposed be in this chapter but it got long so. the next one will be most about him :>


End file.
